Ten-Finger Exercises

Back home

What a beautiful weekend! The weather was just perfect. Dioscesan Convention is in the cathedral every other year, and a new Dean was being installed today as well. It is a big, Gothic style cathedral with a wonderful pipe organ, and a brass ensemble played as well. Our procession of the cathedral choir and all the clergy of the diocese is pretty splendid. To be a part of that, singing to that wonderful music in solemn procession--ah, it is grand. I was smiling so big I could hardly sing!

Sadly, I wasn't actually in the procession this time, but it didn't really make any difference. I felt a part of it anyway. And it was my own stupid mistake that kept me out. An invitation to be in the procession came Friday in the mail, to be responded to that day. It was late arriving, and a strange request anyway. We already knew we were vesting to be in the procession. But since I didn't get the response back to them in time, I didn't take my vestments. I just didn't feel like calling up and whining would they please make an exception. It seems like I'm late so often in making plans that I didn't want to indulge myself again. I wanted to take the consequences.

I was supposed to help with the communion, although I didn't know about that until yesterday. Street clothes were acceptable for that. Then in the middle of the night I began sneezing. At least twenty times, with the snorty, drippy nose to follow. It seems like I've been plagued with that every few weeks. I know it's allergies, but nothing tames it or prevents it. Anyway, I had to decline serving.

I was in such a strange place, emotionally, at times yesterday. Overwhelmingly sad. I've been so stressed about the diet and blood sugar thing, and of course at a convention there's not much of the right food available. We did really well though, as far as staying on a diet, by eating very little even though it wasn't always the right things. Did not have any of the doughnuts, scones, sweet rolls, breads, cookies, cakes and other sweets, which was a major step in self control if nothing else. Too bad the scale doesn't take into account the number of goodies passed up. There ought to be some NO BROWNIE points, don't you think?